


Night Nurse

by AdamantSteve



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hospital, M/M, Nurse - Freeform, Oral Sex, cross dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:55:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A recovering Phil gets a surprise night time visitor in the form of his boyfriend Clint Barton dressed as a nurse.</p><p>I wrote this because there is WAY too much angst on the Phlint tags lately and I needed some diabetes inducing fluff. <br/>:D</p><p>Thanks to <a href="http://dunicha.tumblr.com/">Dunicha</a> for betaing!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Nurse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt:  
> "I have this really vivid image and I would love some fanart of injured Coulson, with Clint in a kinky nurses outfit (including the short skirt) straddling Coulson on the hospital bed, Coulson reaching up to touch Clint's neck.  
> I'd love fanart, but I'd take a fic with Clint administering his own version of tender loving care too."
> 
> It's not fan art but it is a fic! I couldn't get the image of Clint dressed in a nurses outfit out of my mind. <3 <3 <3

 

 

 

The heart monitor beeped incessantly. The nurses wouldn’t let Phil switch it to silent in case his heartbeat became erratic, even though it’d been pretty much fine since the operation to repair the mess left behind by the quick patch up job on the deck of the Helicarrier. And sure, he was more than lucky to be alive, but it’d been at least two weeks now and they wouldn’t let him do much of anything aside some light paperwork which he’d had to fight tooth and nail to get his hands on. It wasn’t like he enjoyed it, but it was something to do, and it grounded him with it’s familiarity. 

 

His private room was fairly small, though well appointed. There was a huge TV provided by Stark Industries and waved away as a tax write off by Tony, rigged up to Phil’s personal TiVo, so he was up to date with all the fluff that he usually enjoyed. There was a window that gave him a view of the sky and not much else, and another on the opposite side of the room that looked into the hospital corridor, which Phil had the nurses cover permanently with a curtain. He didn’t like being laid up and useless like this and certainly didn’t enjoy people looking at him in his current papery-nightgown state.

 

He missed Clint. Having been away for the last week on a mission, they’d communicated mostly via text message, Phil joking that none of the nurses were as pretty as him, Clint declaring that as soon as he could he’d bring him home and be nursemaid himself.

 

Visiting hours were long over now, Steve Rogers having brought him a brand new Captain America sticker book and an entire box of the stickers as a joke, Pepper having brought take out from some obscenely expensive (and delicious) place near the tower, both being ushered out by Nurse Taylor at exactly 7pm. She ran the ward much like Phil probably would, regimented and perfectly efficient. He had a lot of respect for her, though he wished she would make an exception when it came to visitors. The nights were long and lonely and, even with TiVo, boring. 

 

It was after 1am and the room was dim. He’d just finished an episode of Teen Mom and was shaking his head, reaching for the remote to turn it off and try to go to sleep, when a soft knock came through the door. 

 

Most of the nurses were gone by this time of night, and it wasn’t like them to knock in any case, at least not without immediately bursting in regardless. There was only one person who would dare flout Nurse Taylor’s strict no visitors after 7pm rule. It could only be Clint, back from his mission and sneaking in to see him. Phil smiled as he softly said, “Come in.” 

 

The door slowly opened and Clint slid in silently, grinning at Phil with one finger pressed across his lips. Phil’s jaw dropped. Was he wearing a _nurses uniform?_ He closed the door softly before picking up the chair to the side of Phil’s bed and placing it under the doorhandle as a makeshift lock. Once satisfied that would keep any other visitors at bay, he stilled, stood up straight and then turned, one hand on his cocked hip, the other at his mouth, one finger held between his teeth like some kind of insane 40s pinup. 

 

Phil stifled a laugh as Clint sauntered over to him. It was all he could do not to burst out in hysterics. There was even a little old fashioned hat pinned into Clint’s hair. The whole thing barely covered Clint’s ass, a sprinkling of chest hair peeked out from the top, the heavy black combat boots he wore every day adding another level of absurdity to his appearance. The dress looked like it was made out of some kind of cheap satin, white with red piping and ludicrous red panties under the too-short skirt. Had he come all the way here dressed like this? 

 

Clint had made his way to the side of Phil’s bed by now, Phil patiently waiting for some kind of explanation with a broad grin on his face. 

“Good evening, I’m Nurse Barton.” Clint said, mock seriously. “I’m the new night nurse.” 

Phil was practically giggling as he played along. “Is that so?” 

Clint closed his eyes and nodded seriously. “Uh huh. I just need to take your temperature?” 

Phil bit his lip and smiled. “Of course.” He watched Clint’s face as he held the back of his hand up to Phil’s forehead. He remained in character, looking primly away as if he really was concentrating on Phil’s temperature.

“Hmm, very good. And I need to take your pulse?” 

Phil smiled and held out a wrist, Clint gently holding it and looking at the fake watch hanging from his uniform pretending to time himself. “Very good, fifty over... twenty?” He shrugged, Phil laughing again at Clint’s approximation of a pulse reading.

 

“And how are you feeling, Mr Coulson?” Clint asked, looking serious even in his ridiculous get up.

“All the better for having such a pretty nurse to look after me.” 

Clint pretended to be shocked. “Mr Coulson!” He bit his lip and grinned.

Phil grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer, Clint dropping onto the bed and leaning down for a kiss. The machine beeped Phil’s heart rate, steady as it always was. Ping ping ping. 

 

Clint kissed Phil long and deep. They’d been apart far longer than a week before, but in this place the days dragged on and on. He broke away and kissed along Phil’s jaw, up next to his ear and further, dragging his teeth over the sensitive cartilage. Phil let out the tiniest whimper which only made Clint press on, try to draw more sounds out of him. He drew back so he could hitch up onto the bed, swinging a leg over Phil and pinning him there, legs bare underneath Phil’s hands. He pressed down to kiss him again, mindful of the bandages and the still healing wound beneath them. 

 

When Clint drew back for air, Phil took in the sight of him again. “Where the hell did you get this thing?” He asked through the grin that was beginning to make his face ache. A good ache. Clint looked down at himself and feigned confusion. “Well this is just my uniform. It’s very practical, you see.” 

“Really? I see.” Phil replied as Clint straightened it out and went back to kissing him.

 

Phil rubbed his hands up and down Clint’s thighs, higher until they brushed the lacy edge of the panties, the beeping of the machine going an imperceptible shade faster as he swept his fingers over the satiny red fabric. It felt smooth and warm, slightly debauched even with all it’s silliness. He slid his hands easily across the silky material to cup Clint’s ass beneath the short skirt. Clint stilled, breathed into Phil’s neck a little as Phil drifted his hands up Clint’s back, the fabric there just as silky and smooth. 

 

Clint sat back, his cock lifting the fabric of the skirt just slightly, straining against the panties. Phil reached up and touched Clint’s neck, brushing his jaw gently with his thumb. He smiled and Clint smiled back. Phil looked a little too long, Clint growing bashful under his gaze and leaning down again to nuzzle into Phil’s neck. He ground his cock into Phil’s through the covers, which was quick to respond. He had been half hard as soon as he’d realised it was Clint outside the door. 

 

“Isn’t it a little late for Physical Therapy?” Phil asked, mindful of his less than optimal condition and frightened to risk going where he thought this might go. As much as he wanted Clint - and he always wanted Clint - the stitches were still relatively new. Thoughts of nurses milling about outside weren’t a thousand miles from his mind either. 

 

But Clint just pulled back, hat skewed and a look of challenge in his eyes. 

“Of course, no P.T. this evening Mr Coulson. But you do have to have your medicine.” He said, Phil confused momentarily but soon getting the picture as Clint crawled backwards down Phil’s legs, taking the covers with him. 

“ _Clint! No!_ ” Phil whispered, Clint just looking at him sternly as he pushed Phil’s hospital gown up. Phil was naked beneath it.

“Now, Mr Coulson, you won’t get better without the proper medication.”

 

With that, he held Phil’s hips down and took his cock into his mouth, sucking gently and looking back up at Phil. His ass was high in the air behind him, the red shine of the panties both comical and sexy. He must have noticed Phil’s gaze as he wiggled his butt and chuckled, vibrating into Phil’s cock. He pulled off and kissed the side of Phil’s thigh. “You like these, huh?” Phil raised his eyebrows. “I guess I do.” He said, surprised that he actually _did_ rather like them, though he’d never really considered the concept before. 

 

Clint smiled and licked the head of his cock before plunging down and fluidly bobbing back and forth, closing his eyes happily. Phil let his head rest against the pillows he was propped on, thankful that he could just lie there and take in this at once beautiful and bizarre sight. Thankful for everything, really. That Clint would even _think_ of doing such a thing, much less actually do it. He pushed his hand into Clint’s hair again, enjoying the movement of his head beneath his hand. On less immobilized nights he might have done at least _some_ work, thrusting perhaps, maybe having Clint turn around so he could suck him at the same time. But tonight at least, he was content to let Clint take the reins. Grateful that he’d do this and expect nothing in return just as Phil would whenever Clint was hurt.

 

Clint hummed softly as he went, slower than he might normally be, cautious about being too vigorous. The heart monitor was beeping faster, almost embarrassing, really, announcing to the room how much he was being undone, but Phil didn’t care. He moaned softly, turning his head into the pillows. 

 

He wouldn’t last long, not with Clint’s little red butt peeking at him, Clint working away like this really was some sort of medicine that’d make Phil better. He pushed all the way down til Phil’s dick was gone, looking up again as he drew back off. Again and again he did it, sucking harder and going slightly faster with each stroke. He drew back and wrapped a hand around Phil’s cock, concentrating his tongue on the head, licking with the hard tip of his tongue over Phil’s frenulum and around the edge before sucking the whole thing into his mouth again. 

 

The beeps of the machine kept increasing as Phil’s heart beat faster, Clint moving in tandem with it til Phil couldn’t tell which was causing the other to speed up. He felt his orgasm building, pulled at Clint’s hair to warn him he was close, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference but feeling it was a courtesy to at least let him know. Clint moved his hand back to Phil’s hip and pushed him down into the bed so he could swallow him whole again, up and down and relentless. Phil’s orgasm was his target and Phil had never known him to miss one of those. 

 

The beeps ratcheted up, Phil straining against Clint’s grip as he thrusted despite himself. Too soon he was coming with a strangled moan as Clint slowed down and swallowed, cleaning up after himself with slow, efficient licks before kissing the tip once more, pulling down Phil’s gown and then climbing back up to lay at his side, looking as sated as Phil felt.

 

Phil lay there, too dazed to do anything more than kiss back when Clint kissed him softly. He rested a hand on Clint’s side, content to have him right there next to him where he belonged, trying desperately to not fall into a post-orgasmic sleep but drifting happily off anyway.

 

\--

 

He woke the next morning having slept extremely well, rubbed his chest before remembering where he was and why he was there. He listened idly to the heart monitor beeping away, remembering with a faint smile the dream he’d been having about Clint sneaking in during the night dressed as a nurse with red underwear. He turned on his side and bunched the pillow beneath his head, determined to chase the dream and see what happened next. As he slid his hand beneath the pillow, he felt something silky. He rubbed his fingers into it and pulled it out. It was a pair of red satin panties.  

 

Suddenly, Phil was fully awake. It wasn’t a dream. Clint actually _had_ been here last night. Phil was scandalised. He looked around the room as if someone might see, but no one was there. He looked at the clock, it was 8.52, the nurses - the real nurses - would be starting their morning rounds soon. He rubbed the soft fabric against his cheek, remembering how it had felt stretched across Clint’s hips and ass, breathing in the faint scent of Clint that lingered on them. 

 

A sharp rap on the door jerked him out of his revery and he reached over to fumble open the drawer in the small table next to the bed and place the panties in there, slamming it shut moments before the nurse entered. Phil grabbed the nearest thing on the table, silently cursing when he realised it was the now-completed sticker book Steve had given him. He opened it anyway and pretended to be deeply engrossed while the nurse checked his notes and fluffed his pillows. 

 

Phil was convinced he saw a knowing look on her face as she switched his heart monitor to silent. He turned a page of his book and tried not to blush.


End file.
